


I'm Still Learning Things I Ought to Know By Now

by JackEPeace



Category: Conviction (TV 2016)
Genre: F/F, Femslash February
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 13:15:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17663345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackEPeace/pseuds/JackEPeace
Summary: It's becoming a familiar dance: they lose a case and Hayes is at her door.Hayes' refusal to acknowledge it all the next morning is just as familiar.





	I'm Still Learning Things I Ought to Know By Now

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all I still just miss this show so much and this pairing like I still need it in my life. 
> 
> Done for a (very loose) filling of the Femslash February prompt "lost." 
> 
> Title from "You're a God" because that song will never not remind me of them. 
> 
> This fic is set around 1x09 and contains references to 1x09.

So many things about Hayes Morrison scream mistake. Tess thinks she almost prefers it that way, that Hayes has wrapped herself in that armor so that when something goes wrong, when she screws up, she can only blame the person who trusted her in the first place.

Tess wonders if she fits in that category. Is _she_ one of those idiots putting her trust in Hayes Morrison? Or is she toeing the line, eyes wide open, well aware of the word ‘mistake’ that Hayes wears across herself like a brand?

Tess isn’t sure which is the sadder option.

All she can do is watch, silently, as Hayes picks up a crumpled pair of pants and eyes them critically. “People will notice of these are wrinkled, right?”

“You can always stop by your place,” Tess offers hopefully rather than saying one of the many other things that pops into her mind. “I’m sure no one would be surprised if you were late.”

Hayes looks at her and Tess feels her heart give a single, traitorous leap in her chest. Hayes looks beautiful with her hair in tangles and her lips bruised, her chest flushed from Tess’s lips and her hips from Tess’s fingers. “No one would be surprised if I showed up in yesterday’s wrinkled outfit, either.”

 _Mistake_ , her brain says, _this is a mistake_.

And, oh, Tess knows that.

But she also knows that she won’t wash her sheets until tomorrow, so that tonight she can press her face against a pillow that will still smell like Hayes.

As Hayes dresses herself in yesterday’s clothes, Tess finally slips out of bed, ignoring the smirk that she can feel burning into the back of her head as she takes the time to make up the bed. Tess lingers close to Hayes as she goes through her closet, hoping that Hayes will reach for her, that they might have a morning kiss instead of just kisses exchanged at the city sparkles in the darkness outside the window.

But Hayes doesn’t seem to notice, which is both a strange sort of relief and a disappointment.

There’s no unspoken words that pass between them, no conversations had with just their eyes, no knowing smiles or lingering glances. There’s nothing at all once they make it to the office and show up separately in an unspoken decision not to arrive together.

But it’s always like this, so Tess figures that she knows the routine well and so does Hayes so, really, what is there to say anyway?

Instead, Tess just takes her seat in the conference room with Maxine and Frankie and tries to slip back into her professional, Tess Larson skin, rather than the one that bears the marks of Hayes Morrison.

When Hayes finally blows into the room, her hair is no longer tangled, and she looks remarkably put together for someone wearing yesterday’s outfit. Maxine gives Hayes the once over but doesn’t say anything, though Tess can tell that Sam is having a harder time biting his tongue.

Hayes looks at him. “What?” Her tone is sharp, a challenge.

Sam shrugs, leaning back in his seat. “Nothing.”

Tess almost goads him into pressing the issue, just to see if Hayes would admit whose bed she spent the night in.

Instead, Hayes turns back toward the board, her jaw tightening. “Okay, so we lost this one people.” She sweeps her arm across the pictures and maps and notes magnetized to the board, scattering most of the contents to the floor and Tess tries not to feel used. “But we’ve got another case all ready to go.”

Hayes looks at Tess and that traitorous heart responds in kind. Even though there’s nothing there by a bored, expectant look. “Tinkerbell?”

Tess figures that everyone will blame her sigh on the nickname. “So, the murder of Mary Dawson.”

It feels better to talk, to fill the room with the sound of her voice, rather than to let her thoughts wander toward the previous night.

“Except now,” Tess continues after outlining the basic facts in the twenty-year-old case, “the family thinks the identification of the cousin might have been a mistake.”

Tess can’t help but pause at the word, accidentally, unconsciously, wondering if Hayes hears it too.

If she feels the same way.

That Tess is the mistake.

Tess turns away and sticks a photo of the victim onto the newly cleared board and can’t figure out if she hopes they find success with this case or not.

 

* * *

 

The conviction sticks. The cousin currently serving a sentence for murdering Mary Dawson actually really is a murderous asshole, despite his attempts to convince his family members otherwise.

The office is quiet as Tess slowly starts pulling the evidence off the board, laying it on the table behind her so that she can organize it all before filing it away again. It doesn’t occur to her that she’s actually waiting around for someone until she hears footsteps behind her.

“Nice work, Blondie.” Hayes is leaning against the doorway, hands in the pockets of her jacket. “Good catch on the murder weapon.”

“Thanks.” Tess regrets turning around to face Hayes completely, feeling too expectant and vulnerable.

Hayes smiles, giving her a nod. “I’m out. See you tomorrow.”

She turns to go before either of them can say anything else.

 _Mistake_ , her brain reminds her, even as her heart falls.

 

* * *

 

Their next case is not so cut and dry. A man on death row, who doesn’t deserve to be there. The case is lost, and Tess finds herself in her apartment that night wondering about the weight of the innocent men that she failed to help resting on her shoulders.

The knock on her apartment door startles her and Tess’s head snaps up from where she’s been staring into the rim of her cooling coffee mug for the past hour. She already knows who is going to be on the other side and there’s a moment, a brief, torturous moment, where she considers pretending to already be asleep.

But Tess is weak and she seems to be unable to escape making mistakes.

Hayes is disheveled and the makeup that she hasn’t cried off has created an unintentional smoky eye. “Hey.” Her voice is a croak.

Tess swallows and steps back to let Hayes into the apartment. “Can I get you something? I have coffee.”

But Hayes doesn’t answer, sliding her arms around Tess and pulling her close so that Tess’s back is flush against her chest. Tess’s breath catches in her throat and the sensation of Hayes nose against the side of her neck sends goosebumps exploding across her body.

Tess closes her eyes and tips her head back and knows that this will just be another mistake that she has to carry on her shoulders.

When Hayes kisses her, it’s like fire, incendiary and all-consuming and Tess has to lean against her to keep from dissolving completely. Hayes’ hands are rough, desperate, tugging and pulling and they don’t even make it to the bedroom, impatiently shedding their clothes where they stand and tipping backward onto the couch. Tess arches into the familiar weight of Hayes above her, feeling herself already coming apart beneath the lips and tongue and teeth moving downward, downward, lower and lower until Tess’s world is nothing but Hayes and this small corner of the city where no one else exists.

They fall asleep on the couch hours later, a tangle of limbs and hair and languid muscles. Tess presses her lips to the crown of Hayes’ head, closing her eyes and breathing in the smell of her, her heart aching in her chest.

A reminder that the mistake she’s been letting herself make might not be the one she thinks it is.

 

* * *

 

In the morning, the routine is the same. The fumbling for clothes. The avoidance of eyes. The unspoken decision not to walk into work together, to reach for one another outside the apartment.

By the time Hayes gets to the CIU, she’s changed out of the clothes that she let Tess unbutton the night before. She looks tired, a fire temporarily banked and subdued, wary and weary. Her eyes seem to take in the faces of everyone waiting for her while skipping Tess all together. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“We thought you might…need a day,” Sam says. “After what happened with Slavitt.”

Hayes waves him away. “I’m fine.” Her eyes flick briefly to Tess and Tess wonders if she’s imagining the hint of guilt on Hayes’ face.

 _Mistake_ , her brain reminds her, _you are a mistake_.

Maxine shifts in her chair. “Hayes-”

“Look, it just means we have to do better next time, right?” Hayes lifts her eyebrows, her stance and expression a challenge to the four watching her. “No more mistakes. We have to be fast. And sure.”

Everyone nods, except Tess, who is too busy mentally willing Hayes to look at her.

She doesn’t.

 

* * *

 

For two months, the CIU manages to function in a way that Wallace and the rest of the men behind the formation of the unit no doubt intended. The focus is on the cases, testing the convictions, proving them unjust and putting the real culprits behind bars.

Tess three months ago would have embraced all of this with a wide-eyed grin and a high-five that would have been returned out of pity. Tess three months ago would have known better than to sleep with her boss. Tess three months ago would never have allowed herself to fall in love with Hayes Morrison and then allow this to go unacknowledged around the office like a-

A mistake.

But their winning streak ends and they find a case that involves five days of being certain there’s an innocent woman in prison yet being unable to prove this with the type of evidence that gets people back out on the street.

Tess is certain that she’s the last person in the office until Hayes appears in the doorway, coat unbuttoned and close to slipping off her shoulders. “Hey. Want to go back to my place? Get a drink?”

The sound of her beating heart is _yes_.

Tess swallows. “No.”

Hayes blinks at her before recovering. “Oh. Well, I mean, we could go back to your place too. It doesn’t matter to me.”

Tess gets to her feet, reaching for her purse and jacket. “I mean no. Period.”

Hayes reaches out to stop her as she tries to push past. “What’s wrong, Tess?”

“Oh. Sometimes I forget that you know my name.”

Hayes blinks at her and Tess can see her trying to hide her amusement. “Is that what this is about? You’re upset because I don’t call you by your name at the office?”

“No.” Tess pulls her elbow free. “I’m upset because when we’re in the office you won’t look at me. You come to my house, we…have sex. And then it’s like none of it ever happened. Like you’re-”

A mistake.

“Ashamed.” The word is like a rock sitting in her throat, but it feels good to say out loud.

Hayes moves her hands away, stuffing them back into her pockets like she’s either afraid to touch Tess or worried that she’ll be tempted to do exactly that. “I didn’t realize you thought it was that sort of thing.”

Tess narrows her eyes, which is a miracle considering that the tightness in her throat and the aching in her chest are both telling her just to start crying right then and there. “No, I guess I shouldn’t have. I should have known better. We lose cases, you fuck me to feel better, and then we’re just colleagues until the next time the case doesn’t go your way.”

Hayes flinches that Tess has just slapped her, which sounds unfortunately tempting. “When you put it like that, I sound like a piece of shit.”

“How else am I supposed to put it?”

This time Tess succeeds in pushing her way past Hayes, exhaling sharply when she finally has her back to the other woman. The walk across the office feels impossibly long, especially when the view of the elevator is starting to blur. Tess presses her hand to her mouth, willing herself to remain steadfast and silent until she makes it inside the elevator.

But she’s not even halfway before Hayes calls out to her. “Tess. Wait.”

And damn it, she does.

“Just…wait.” Tess doesn’t turn around to see the expression on Hayes’ face. She isn’t sure she can bear it. “I am a piece of shit, okay.”

Tess clears her throat, trying to swallow around the pressure in her throat. “I’m not going to make you feel better.”

“You shouldn’t.” Hayes footsteps are getting closer and Tess knows that she’s going to turn around, that she’s not going to be able to resist. “I’m just not good at this.”

Tess feels like her body is moving without her permission, turning her around to face Hayes, certain that her eyes are burning with the shimmer of unshed tears. “You can’t always use that as an excuse. You can’t always depend on this lost girl routine. You can’t just do whatever you want and say that no one ever thought you how to be a normal human.”

Hayes flinches and the wry smile on her face is betrayed by the hurt that pools in her eyes. “Is that what you really think of me?”

“Yes.” Tess exhales, her shoulders slumping. “No. I don’t.”

“Why do you even care? Why would you actually want to get involved with someone like me? Haven’t you figured out what everyone else has about me?”

 _A mistake_.

Is it possible that while Tess has been feeling like a mistake that Hayes regrets making, that Hayes has been feeling the same way?

“I don’t feel that way.” It feels good to say the words out loud, to push aside the doubts that have been slipping through her brain ever since that first night that Hayes came to her and kissed her until her surprise turned into fervor.

Hayes snorts. “You should. You should be running.”

Tess meets her gaze. “Have I done that yet?”

Hayes doesn’t have an answer for her. But in her eyes, Tess can see a crack in the façade, a glimmer of something that might be hope.

“So what does a normal human do in this situation?” Hayes asks with the arch of one perfect eyebrow.

Tess shrugs, ducking her head to hide the embarrassed flush that creeps across the curve of her neck. “Did you mention something about getting a drink?”

That shine in Hayes’ eyes, that peek of hope, glows brighter. “I think I did mention that.”

Tess nods. “Let’s start. Though, I don’t kiss on the first date.”

Hayes smirks. “I think I can wait.”

Of course, by the end of the night, with Hayes pulling her close, Tess does a lot more than simply kiss her.

 

* * *

 

In the morning, it’s Tess trying to figure out how to put yesterday’s outfit together in a way that doesn’t make it obvious that she wore the same thing the day before. She’s not sure that anything she can do to the ensemble will escape the notice of the team’s sharp eyes, just like she’s not sure that she wants to try and play off Sam’s teasing or Maxine’s shrewd comments.

“Here.” Hayes is standing in her spacious closet, half-dressed, toothbrush poking out between her lips. “I think I have a few things that’ll look good on you.”

Tess catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror as she goes to join Hayes. Her hair is mussed from Hayes’ fingers, her skin blistering from the heat of Hayes’ hands. The early morning chill that normally follows their nightly trysts seems to have thawed quite spectacularly.

“Aren’t you worried someone will recognize that I’m wearing your clothes?”

Hayes looks at her with that devil-may-care smile that Tess knows is going to be the cause of her undoing. “Let them.”


End file.
